The Underdogs
by InsertStupidNameHere
Summary: Loosely based on a nineteenth-century society, the children of the city fend for themselves. Inspired by Vocaloid's "Panda Hero". Five chapters total.
1. Chapter 1

**Based off of the song "Panda Hero" ("Panda Hiiroo"). All rights go to their respective owners.**

**This story takes place in the nineteenth century. It was hard for me to do research on this time period, and I don't really have much time to research anyway. Information on the lives of children was especially hard to find. I did read a (historical fiction) book about children in this time period, but I forgot what it was called! DX So, if you see any issues, just know I really didn't have much information at all. Thanks, and enjoy the intro!**

* * *

They, were life's underdogs.

Some, ill.

Some, addicts.

Most, dirt poor.

The law was never on their side, no matter the situation. Needless to say, in these desperate times, everyone of them did what they could to survive. Children worked in workhouses to care for their families.

The society these children formed was an odd one, indeed. Many having no one else in the world who cared about them, they turned to each other. A cautious teamwork developed. Yes, even a friendship or two. However, in these situations, you never knew when someone could turn on you. Their world was survival of the fittest. Yes, some were so desperate to live as to steal from starving comrades. But, then again, this was all they had ever known.

Then, there was that rare, joyous occasion when the children of these slums would receive a donation from the haughty rich, or from the government that was supposed to care for them. Certainly, it was never adequate to feed all of them properly, but there were more important things.

Dividing the amount up evenly would never do any good. There were too many of them. They all would receive next to nothing. No individual would have enough to do anything with. So, it was determined that it would be more beneficial if some got what they needed, rather than for everyone to get useless pocket-change. It would be better that at least somebody would have enough.

Now, they were faced with questions. Who would be the lucky few? Some thought it should be the poorest of them. That didn't help though. There were too many of them with nothing. Some thought it should be those with larger families. But, the fact arose that larger families meant more could work in the workhouses. How about those with sick families? Well, what defined sick? They were all malnourished enough to experience symptoms. Also, if this was survival of the fittest, why would they give the charity to the weakest? Didn't the ones with a little more prove that they had more determination and perseverance? Didn't they deserve it more?

So, it was decided that the only way to determine the distribution of this donation:

A baseball game.

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**Okay, this will probably be only a few chapters. You guys know me and my random bursts of inspiration...**

**I know what you guys are thinking:**

What?! _Another_ Kutau fic?! Seriously?! You aren't even finished with your first yet!

**I know! Okay?! Actually, I didn't even really like Kutau at first. But my first storyline seemed to go with their personalities the best. That was the same situation here. I dunno bout you guys, but I absolutely cannot envision Rima playing baseball. Get what I'm saying?! Thought so.**

**Also, those two have kind of grown on me...**

**Yes, before you ask, baseball was invented in 1875. I did my research, suckers.**

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

The word had spread. There was another donation up for grabs. The best team would win our "tournament" and claim the prize. From there, it was up to the team to decide how to divide it among themselves.

This year, I didn't exactly _need_ the prize. Sure, I was lacking basic necessities like food, but that was because I had to take care of my mother. She was terribly sick. Father had died when I was young. Yeah, I didn't eat too often, but I'd rather pay for her medicine than feed myself.

No, I don't _exactly_ have a job.

What I do makes just a little bit more money, and is just a little less difficult. But, not much. Also, it's not the job for everyone...

The time the annual donation comes in is my busiest season. Why? You see, I'm an exceptional baseball player. Just, not everyone wants me on their team.

For starters, I'm a girl. When we first decided on the baseball tournament, people were skeptical of having girls on the team. But then, times started getting worse, and more girls kept showing up (that is, if they can find a team). Most girls are only allowed into a team when they are a better choice compared to others, and the team is short a few players. Still, the teams that allow girls to join often are considered weaker. Like, as if all the other guys had already joined other teams.

So, it would be nice to enter the tournament and win that prize. It might mean I would gain respect for the female population, and I'd actually get to eat. But, there's just one issue with that.

I don't exactly have any friends, much less ones to start a team with.

Also, I think I intimidate most people. They even started this urban legend about me... "A hero of a player, who charges a price." Actually, that's mostly true. I don't know where the "hero" part came from, but ever since a few years ago, I've been charging a price for my services on a team. I'm that "secret weapon" that gives a team that's "just okay" a fighting chance. So this time of year, I'm pretty busy.

When I came home on the first day with the medicine my mother needed, she had asked how I had ever saved enough to purchase it. I just told her she didn't want me to answer that question. She nodded, and returned to her nap after a weak thanks.

The price I charge for my "services" is an opium seed.

Hold on. Before you freak out, I'm not a druggie.

However, many people would pay a decent price for such an item. So, that's how I make my money. Also, the pharmacist is a nice man. He doesn't ask how I (looking like I do) afford the medicine twice a month. He understands people do what they must. I need to thank him someday.

So, the fools that believe this legend are actually doing me a big favor. Also, not only do I help out teams in tournament season, but baseball is often used to settle disputes or win bets. I help with these things too.

My usual hang out is in the slums on the outskirts of town. It's not the prettiest place, with junk everywhere, but it's somewhere where a dirty brat like me, in my ragged clothes and shapeless cap, fits in. I'm not accepted anywhere else. Usually, I'm the only one there. That legend of a mysterious, somewhat violent, "hero" drives everyone away.

Anybody interested in my services comes here, though. You can tell they're surprised to see that I'm real at first. Then, no doubt rumors have caused their next move. They step back, and I'm presented with my payment. What bugs me is every single one of them says, "I ask of you, please. My team requires your help." I take my payment, and pick up my only possession with an indifferent grumble. My bat. It took me forever to save up enough. Even then, it's far from decent.

Still, it's a bat, and it's mine.

* * *

Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised when I was asked to join a tournament team for the final game. I charged extra for it. And, I would get a cut of the prize money.

"I'm so happy you accepted our request, Hero." The young kid was saying. We were both walking to where the last tournament game would be held. It was a really last-minute request, but I wouldn't pass up an opportunity like this. He probably was bullied into being the one to come and ask me. Oh well. "Can I call you that?" He turned to look back at me, and I nodded. He smiled.

"I'm Abbott. I've always known you were real, but Benjamin told me you weren't. I can't wait to see his face! Oh, and you should probably know about Kukai Souma. He's thirteen, and the leader of the other team. He's been telling everyone on our team that even if we did get your help, he would beat you. I don't believe him though. I saw you play when you were his age, a few years ago. And you were amazing! I can't believe you're actually going to play on our team! Those other guys don't stand a chance!" Geez this guy rambles. well, He is just a little kid. Still, he must be pretty good himself for having made this far.

Kukai Souma, huh? Sounds like another immigrant's kid. I wonder where he's from. And thirteen? That's some big talk for a little kid like him. I think I'll enjoy this.


	3. Chapter 3

The last inning.

This is my stage. The only time I join the game.

We were down by five. The other team had some good, strong players, but they lacked control. Our team was batting.

Abbott's a fast runner, for a little kid. He stole third while nobody was looking. By the time they realized what was happening, he was almost to the bag.

I watched as Benjamin hit ball, sending Abbott home. I fixed my dirty hair into its usual two pigtails, and shoved my cap down just above my eyes. I was standing just off the "field". I looked like any other spectator, from here. Harvey hit one, and Benjamin made it to second. Marshall struck out, and Rufus got the bases loaded.

My turn.

I picked up my bat, and my fingers instantly found the groves they had worn into the wood. Taking the field, I walked up to home "plate", which was just a piece of scrap wood. I took a few practice swings and-

"What, did they run out of players or something?" It was the catcher. Up close, I just noticed he didn't even have a proper glove. Sure, his make-shift one would cushion the blow, but I doubt it did much.

"Hey! That's our star player! She's Hero!" It was Abbott, yelling from the side of the field.

"Hero? You're just a girl!"

"Hey, I know you're new here and all, but lets just get this straight; I'm the best there is." Everyone went silent. Oh, yeah. That was the first time I spoke actual words in front of everybody.

"Okay then, lets see, druggie." He gave a bright grin. Ugh.

Turning my back to him, I regained my focus. It was so silent, I could hear my own heart beat. I locked my eyes ahead of me, and planted my feet firmly on the ground. I stretched out my arms a little bit, and got into position.

The pitch.

_Thud_.

I didn't even flinch.

"Come on! At least _try_ to swing at it, _Hero_!" He said mockingly from behind me. I ignored him. Keeping my eyes locked on the person in front of me, I stayed stone-still.

That was my ritual. I would assess the pitcher on the first throw, and knock it out the next pitch. I couldn't afford to mess this up. We needed a grand-slam.

The wind-up.

The pitch.

The swing.

_Thwack_!

I took my time to first base. By the time I reached home plate again, Abbott was waiting for me with a huge smile. I patted the ten-year-old on the back, and walked over to where the rest of the team was crowded around the prize money. They had already sectioned out a quarter of the winnings for me. I took it, and shoved it in my pocket.

Then, that kid from before, the catcher came up to me. "I'm Sou- er, I mean Kukai Souma. Sorry, people introduce themselves differently here. Anyway, good game?" He stuck out his hand, while the other rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

I took his hand, and shook it.

* * *

**Chapter 4 will be coming soon, and from there we're almost done! This wasn't meant to be very long anyways guys. Actually, I'm surprising someone with it, as a favor...**


	4. Chapter 4

I was walking home along the dimly lit street, a comforting weight in my pocket, and a content expression on my face. Oh, and of course my trusty bat in my left hand.

Suddenly, I heard voices from the alley. I stopped, and peered around the corner to listen. Why? Because I thought one of them sounded familiar.

And, I was right. It was that Kukai kid from the game today. He was talking with a little girl, I think.

"Oniichan, your hand's all swollen again. Are you okay?" 'Oniichan'? I think I've heard that before. From my mom, I think. What language was that?

"Yeah, I'm okay, Yaya. Just, go to sleep, okay?"

"But, I'm hungry."

"Me too. But, I didn't win this time, so I can't buy anything to eat right now. You'll be okay though, I promise."

"...okay."

There were a few shuffling sounds, and the rustle of cloth. Wait, did they _sleep_ out here?! Well, I mean, it wasn't that uncommon, although I was lucky enough to have a small apartment I shared wi my mother.

But this girl... there was something off about her. She took a step backwards into the ring of dim light. She was so thin! And living on the streets like that?!

This girl would definitely not last, come winter.

* * *

What in the world was I doing?! Ugh. I definitely was going to regret this tomorrow. Especially at lunchtime... I was blowing all of my budget.

No one questioned me as I entered the dingy shop. I purchased a few materials as cheaply as I could, and made my way over to my usual hideout. I worked on this 'project' for hours, and by the time I was done, I felt pretty accomplished. It wasn't professional work by any means, but it was sure a lot better than the other one. It would work a lot better, I could already tell.

Taking out my pocketknife, I scratched my name - well, the one everyone called me anyways - into the back of my finished creation.

* * *

**Hmmm... Whatcha up to, Utau?**


	5. Chapter 5

"What happened then? After the game, I mean?"

"To this day, I swear I saw her in that alley that night, when I was talking to my sister."

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?"

"Well, I thought I saw a bit of blonde hair then, but I convinced myself I was just tired, and went to bed. But, two days later, I woke up with a hand-sewn catching glove - _stuffed with cash_ - sitting on my lap."

"Fascinating! And, you never saw this person again?"

"No, but I keep looking. I wanted to thank her. Her gift helped me care for my little sister until I could find a job. I was only thirteen then. She was probably a few years older, and Yaya was eleven. She pretty much saved the both of us from starving. Yaya's dream is to meet her, so she can thank her properly. Frankly, I'd like that too."

"And there you have it, folks! The full story on the mysterious blonde 'hero' who inspired and ultimately saved the rising baseball star, Kukai Souma! If you or someone you know may have any information regarding this person, you are asked to contact us! Next week, we catch up on his career in baseball since then, and predictions for years to come!"

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**Erm... The end? DON'T KILL ME PLEASE!**


End file.
